To Be Alive
by Delaney of the Dead
Summary: Derek is a human. One night, he meets a werewolf named Stiles who begins to insert himself into Derek's life bit by bit.
1. Chapter 1

Derek Hale liked to be alone. It wasn't that he was anti-social, he just preferred his own company over anyone else's. Which was why one June evening found Derek walking alone through the woods surrounding his home.

It had still been light out when he had left. He glanced up at the traces of sunlight passing through the dense trees overhead and thought of how much his family would have enjoyed this. Walking with him, joking around, playing, smiling, laughing. Living. Since the fire two years before, Derek had spent countless hours thinking on each of their smiles, trying to remember the sounds of each one's laughter.

He pulled his weathered leather jacket tighter around himself. He should probably turn back soon. There had been recent reports of wild animal attacks in the area, but Derek had always been taught that those types of creatures were more afraid of humans than humans were of them.

He glanced at the now-setting sun and gave a dejected sigh before turning back toward home. He listened to the sounds of twilight encompassing him. An owl hooting, a chorus of crickets chirping, a twig snapping, a tree cracking and thudding to the ground. The resounding boom of the felled tree stopped Derek in his tracks. He turned toward the sound, listening again. A muffled scream made itself distinct among the clamor of sunset and Derek began sprinting toward it. He considered the wild animal attacks for a moment, but no wolf could knock down a tree on its own.

He had nearly reached the source of the noise when he heard a male voice shouting.

_"GET DOWN!"_

Derek fell to the ground, instinctively covering his head with his hands. He heard and felt the whistle of a large object flying by only a foot or two above him. What the hell was going on?

Hands gripped him by the sides and threw him roughly across a small clearing, where his shoulder connected with the trunk of a fallen tree. Derek slumped against the trunk and attempted to watch the events unfolding before him.

Sometime in all the commotion, the sun had set entirely, a narrow crescent moon taking its place in the sky. Derek squinted. Nearest to him stood a figure, probably male, teens-to-early-twenties, in a wide fighting stance, feet spread, arms ready to lash out, and were those… claws? It was so hard to see! Beyond the boy, there was another figure. Dark and huge, Derek might have said it was some sort of bear, but it was too big. It was engaged in some sort of fight with something that it already had pinned to the ground. Its opponent let out a scream, weaker, much weaker than the one Derek had first heard. The cry cut off abruptly with a movement from the hulking creature. The boy seemed to relax, walking up to the creature and whispering something to it. It turned, advancing toward Derek.

Derek stood up and steeled himself. That thing had just killed someone, and Derek was not about to go the same way without a fight.

Its glowing blood red eyes met Derek's icy blue, and suddenly it was shrinking, changing and then abruptly it wasn't a creature anymore. It was a teenaged boy, naked, covered in blood, and giving Derek a shy smile. He covered himself up with one hand and gave a small wave with the other.

"Hi. I'm Stiles. And you wouldn't happen to have any extra clothes on you, would you?"


	2. Chapter 2

The first thing that came out of the human's mouth was:

"What are you?"

Okay, so maybe getting clothes would have to wait.

Scott, panic written all over his face, began to try and make up an excuse, bless his heart.

"This is totally not what it looks like! We were just, um, practicing! For lacrosse, and, uh…" Scott paused there, thank God.

"Scott," Stiles began, patting his friend on the shoulder, "Hollywood lost a great actor when you moved to Beacon Hills. Besides, I don't think Muscles McBroody over here's gonna settle for anything but the truth. He's seen too much now anyway. Might as well."

Scott still looked unsure, but he was Scott. That look was practically engraved on his face.

Mr. Salon-Trimmed-5 o'clock-Shadow kept staring at him. He had an eyebrow quirked up, but to his credit his expression remained almost entirely blank.

"Are you sure you want to know, uh…?" Stiles gestured toward the stranger, realizing he still didn't know the guy's name.

"Derek. My name is Derek Hale." The stranger supplied.

"Alright, nice to meet you Derek. Like I was saying, are you sure you want to know? Because, I mean, there's no going back once I tell you. You can't _un_-know it or whatever. You get the point, right? The whole "tell anyone and you'll suffer the consequences" thing? I mean, I don't think I could actually kill you, but still. Consequences! Big ones! So, you know, uh… don't. Tell people." Stiles ended lamely.

Derek stared at him expectantly.

"Well?" He asked. "What are you?"

Stiles took a deep shuddering breath, closing his eyes and lowering his head before looking back up at Derek in the creepiest manner he could muster.

"Werewolves. We're werewolves." He bared his teeth jokingly, allowing his canines to extend before breaking into a smile. Stiles attempted to gauge Derek's reaction, but there still didn't appear to be one.

"Werewolves." Derek repeated, blinking at the pair.

"Yeah! You know, lycanthropes. Playing for Team Jacob, to put it into more familiar terms for you, big guy." He threw a light punch at Derek's shoulder, which only made the man stare harder at Stiles. Yikes. The guy might not be a werewolf, but he'd sure as hell make a better one than Scott or Stiles. Actually…

"How would you like to be one?" Stiles asked, extending his hand and allowing an even bigger smile to slip onto his face as Scott stared at him, horrified.

"What?" the man, Derek, finally broke his composure, looking from Scott to Stiles in confusion. There was hardly a tinge of the scent of fear in the air. _Oh, yes,_ thought Stiles,_ he'd be perfect._

"Join us. Become a werewolf. Sit at the cool kids table."

Derek broke eye contact, shifting his vision over Stiles' shoulder.

"You just killed a person." Derek raised his arm, pointing past Stiles at a barely visible lump on the ground. Oh. Right. That.

"That wasn't a person!" Stiles said, raising his arms in innocence. "That was a vampire. He's been in the area for a couple weeks, attacking people. We finally caught him tonight while he was on a _certain someone's_ trail. You're welcome for that, by the way.

Derek stared at the lifeless mass on the ground not twenty feet away from him.

"It was… going to kill me?" Derek asked, transfixed.

"Yep. Well, we can assume. Given his recent history, it's a little less than likely that he was going to try to change you."

"Recent history… the animal attacks?" Derek guessed, looking back to Stiles for confirmation.

Stiles looked mildly impressed.

"Looks and brains? Double-threat kind of guy, eh, Derek? Now you've got to join the pack! You've got that ultra-badass, super-intimidating aura that we oh-so-desperately need. No offense, Scott, but you're too adorable to scare anything that might be trying to kill us." The boys shoved at each other playfully. Stiles _really_ wanted this guy in his pack. He was the epitome of the werewolf "it" factor. And he had just met him, but… well, Stiles could just tell this wasn't a bad guy. And his looks didn't hurt either.

Derek was just staring at them. Again. Okay, that was starting to get immensely creepy.

"I have a few questions I want to ask before I make any kind of decision." Derek finally spoke.

"Alright, ask away, but for the love of God, can I please borrow some clothes?"

* * *

AN: I'll be switching around perspectives here and there, mostly at chapter breaks, but I'll try and make it obvious when there's a perspective change when one comes up mid-chapter.

I've already got the entire story written in a notebook, so since it's just a matter of typing it up, I should be updating almost daily. The M-rated scene won't be making an appearance until 6 (and by 6 I mean the first sentence of 6).

Lemme know what you guys think! If you think of something delightful and intervene early enough, I may just end up writing it in.


	3. Chapter 3

The entirety of the walk back to Derek's home was filled with conversation. Derek would ask a question, Stiles would usually answer, Scott filling in information when needed. They discussed Alphas, hunters, the existence of other mythical creatures (Stiles was adamant that unicorns were real, but Scott had his doubts), and every other question Derek thought of. He couldn't remember holding a conversation this long in years. And damn, that Stiles kid had a mouth on him. Every once in a while, he'd make a joke, laugh quietly, then look at Derek in a way that reminded him so much of Laura that he'd had to bite his lip and turn away.

When they finally arrived at the house, Derek handed Stiles a pair of sweats and directed him to the bathroom to clean up the blood that was beginning to dry on his arms and chest.

Scott and Derek sat on opposite ends of Derek's couch. Without Stiles there to make conversation, the pair fell silent. Derek tapped his fingers on his leg, searching for something to say.

"So," Derek began, "It's just the two of you, then? In your pack? I figured a pack would be bigger than that."

"Oh. Um, well, yeah. Stiles' mom used to be the Alpha. His dad didn't want to take the bite, but Stiles didn't have a choice. He was born that way." Scott answered quietly.

"What happened to Stiles' mom?" Derek asked in a low voice, already knowing the answer.

"Hunters broke into their home when he was 12. They tried to kill all of them, even his dad. Sheriff got them eventually, but not before…" Scott trailed off, a significant silence following him. He eventually continued. "Do you know Sheriff Stilinski?"

Derek thought of the days after the fire, in a crowded, too-loud police station, an officer asking him questions, showing him pictures, giving him hot coffee and condolences.

"Yes. I know Sheriff Stilinski."

Scott must have noticed Derek's change in mood, because he quickly snapped his mouth shut and turned away, murmuring a soft "_oh_" to himself.

Derek shook off the memories, shoving them down. He could deal with those later. He needed a subject change.

"So, were you born a werewolf too?" Derek asked half-heartedly.

"Nope!" a voice supplied from behind him. Derek turned. Stiles had apparently finished getting dressed and cleaning himself up, and in this light, he looked a great deal less menacing. Actually, he didn't look menacing at all. If anything, he looked… cute? Derek cringed internally at the word, but it was true. Big golden eyes, a smattering of freckles, a button nose, and Derek be damned if Stiles didn't have the smile of an elated 4-year-old. The smile accompanied Stiles onto the couch, where he sat between Derek and Scott.

"Scott was hit by a car riding his bike a few years back and it was pretty clear he wouldn't make it to a hospital, so I asked him if he would let me save him, knowing what it would do to him. So I gave him the bite!" Stiles gave another infantile smile, throwing an arm around his friend. "And ever since then it's just been us versus the world, Batman and Robin takin' on every Joker that comes into town!" He turned to Derek. "Unless, of course, you want to join us?"

"No." Derek said, looking to his feet. "It's too dangerous. At this point, the harm outweighs the benefit. I value my life too much to put that kind of pressure on it without any necessity."

A silence sat among the trio for a few moments before Stiles broke it, throwing a slap on Derek's shoulder.

"Well, that's fine, man. It's whatever. Offer's always going to be open. But that doesn't mean we can't hang out, right? 'Cause I like you, man. And we need a badass in out circle of friends or we'll all die virgins… That was a joke, big guy. Do you have those where you come from?"

"I don't hang out." Derek said, ignoring the rest of Stiles' comments.

"What, you just stay here in the middle of the woods by yourself all day?" Stiles wondered with a laugh.

"More or less." Derek replied, face set in stone once again.

"Wow," Stiles said, "Well, that's incredibly depressing. That settles it. Friday night Scott and I are going to come over here and watch a movie with you and you are going to like it!"

Derek let out a sigh. He was never going to get rid of these guys, was he?

"Fine. But I pick the movie."

* * *

AN: Hey, guys. Just to clarify a few things:

-Yeah, I changed a few minor things around, but I figured no big deal because it's a pretty big AU anyway.

-The fire was two years before.

-Stiles is 17, Derek is 20.

-We're also suspending some belief for the moment and assuming that the house was at least partially rebuilt and has running water/electricity etc.

-Stiles is the Alpha, has been since age 12. Which is, wow, kind of hard to believe, but again: fiction. Suspension of belief.

That's all I can think of right now. I'll probably remember something else by the time the next chapter goes up. Let me know what you guys think so far!


	4. Chapter 4

If you asked Stiles when exactly he and Derek had become friends, he would not have been able to tell you. Friday Night Movies at the Hale house had become a regular thing. Derek would watch Scott and Stiles sparring in the woods outside of his house. Stiles eventually started cooking dinner at Derek's, claiming Derek could not survive on a diet of pure take-out pizza and freezer dinners. Derek would watch him cook and ask him questions about the supernatural. Stiles would try to sneak up on Derek, fully wolfed out, going so far as to hid in his closet for 15 minutes, but it soon became plain that you just couldn't scare Derek Hale.

Derek had become a fixture in Stiles' life.

It hadn't escaped his father's notice that Stiles was suddenly away from home more than usual. One Friday night after a half-decent superhero movie that Stiles had talked most of the way through, the Sheriff finally approached Stiles.

"Where do you go off to all the time these days?" he asked, sitting on a kitchen stool next to his son. "Not that I'm saying it's a bad thing that you're finally developing a social life. Just, you know, I worry about you, kiddo."

Stiles, eternally incapable of telling a convincing lie to his father, decided it was about time he told the truth.

"Scott and I just started hanging out with this guy, that's all," he said, trying to sound as casual as possible.

"And just who exactly is _"this guy"_?"

"His name is Derek Hale?" Stiles said, though it came out as more of a question. Stiles really hoped Derek didn't have some sort of criminal record that he hadn't told them about.

His dad paused and looked back at Stiles, a serious expression crossing over his face.

"Derek Hale, you said?"

"Yeah… You know him?"

"Yeah, I do." The Sheriff took a deep breath and propped his elbow on the table, placing his forehead into his hand. "I'm surprised you don't remember him."

"What, is he some sort of serial killer, or…?" Stiles was getting worried. He really, _really_, hoped Derek wasn't trying to lure them into his home to murder them.

"No, no. Do you remember that arson case that was giving us a lot of trouble a few years back? At the Hale estate?"

Suddenly, Stiles did remember. His dad had been away from home for the better part of three days. It had been all over the news. An entire family killed in a house fire, suspected to be a case of arson. All killed except one 18-year-old who had the fortune to be away from home that night.

Everything made sense. All of the questions Stiles hadn't asked, mostly out of politeness, but partly because when he brought up the state of his house, or his lack of houseguests, Derek would get this gut-wrenching far-away look in his eyes, the same one Dad got when they talked about Mom. So, he dropped it. Kicked Scott when he started to ask why Derek lived in a house that appeared to be missing about half of its original structure. Why there was nobody, nobody else in Derek's life except for Scott and Stiles, who had forced their own way in.

Stiles mumbled a quiet "oh my God" to himself as it all came together.

"So, you didn't know?" Sheriff Stilinski asked as he got up to pour himself a drink.

"He never said anything. I mean, I didn't ask. It makes so much sense," Stiles said, rubbing his head and blinking at the countertop.

"Well, I'm glad he's got friends, at least. Does he, uh… Does he know your Little Secret?"

This was the part that Stiles had been hoping his dad would conveniently forget. He wasn't technically supposed to tell anyone because of the "danger" he could bring on himself and Scott or something.

"That depends on what secret we're talking about here. I mean, I'm pretty sure he has no idea that I looked through his medicine cabinet. Good news, by the way- he's not addicted to pharmaceuticals!"

"Stiles," his father began.

"It's not my fault!" Stiles interrupted, before his dad could start the "don't put yourself in unnecessary danger" speech (which Stiles had memorized years ago). "That vampire that was in town was stalking him and Scott and I took it down while we were saving him. He saw everything! We couldn't just lie to him!"

"Vampire?" The Sheriff's head had cocked up at that.

Crap.

"Did I forget to mention that we took down the vampire? Ha ha… Gosh, I'm so forgetful. Forgive me, dad?" Stiles flashed his saddest puppy-dog eyes. They hadn't worked in years, but it was always worth a shot.

The Sheriff sighed. "You're going to be 18 soon, Stiles. An adult. And yes, I know that you have double responsibilities with school and all of your supernatural business, but please, just- just talk to me about it sometimes! And stay safe. Remember: more than anything, protect yourself and your pack."

Images of his mother passed through his head. Ruffling his hair after a rough training session. Kissing his cheek when he was worried about hunters. "Remember," she would say, "more than anything, protect yourself and your pack."

Stiles bit back tears at the memories and nodded solemnly as his dad pulled him into a hug.

* * *

AN: Sorry if you wanted a little more Derek in this chapter, but I absolutely love the dynamic between Stiles and his father. I love the adults in this show so much. It was all I could do not to write an entire chapter about Coach Finstock (next time, Delaney...)

Next chapter should be a little bit closer to what I think you guys came here for. Actually, from here on out Sterek levels are going to be pretty steadily rising, and that's all I'm going to say about that. ;)

Let me know what you guys think!


	5. Chapter 5

"What do I tell her when she opens the door?" Scott's voice came through the speaker of Stiles' phone. "What if she doesn't like my outfit? I already changed twice…"

"Hell if I know, Scott! Look, she already said yes, man. That's gotta be a sign that she already approves of your taste in fashion," Stiles said with an eye roll, pulling his jeep up to Derek's house. "Listen, I've got to go, I just got to Derek's. Have fun, try not to embarrass yourself too much, tell her she looks pretty at least 3 times, and definitely do not let slip our furry little secret. 'Kay?" Stiles shut off the ignition.

"Okay. Okay, okay. I can do this. I can do this."

"Of course you can, buddy. Now go woo that lady!"

"Alright, thanks man! Wish me luck!" Stiles could hear the smile on Scott's face. "I'm calling you right when I get back, okay?" Scott hung up.

"Does nobody say goodbye anymore?" Stiles mused aloud, stepping down from his jeep and shutting the door.

"Scott couldn't make it, then?" Stiles looked up. Derek was waiting on his porch, leaning against a pillar, arms crossed and staring at Stiles.

Stiles' inner wolf gave a little howl the same way it did whenever he caught Derek looking at him. Okay, so maybe he did have a crush on the big guy. But who wouldn't? The guy was like a sex god. And now he was thinking about sec. And Derek. Derek and sex. And boy, he was glad Scott wasn't there just then because Stiles could have smelled his own desire from across town.

Derek, entirely unaware of Stiles' inner turmoil, ushered him into the house.

"Yep," said Stiles, pushing his claws into his palms to distract himself from stray thoughts. "A girl miraculously agreed to go on a date with him."

"Why? Did he threaten to maim her?" Derek joked with a smirk. It didn't happen often, but every once in a while, Derek would make these little sardonic remarks and Stiles could never help the soft, girlish giggle that would escape him. This time, he let the giggle happen, masculinity be damned. Stiles and Derek walked side by side into the living room, Stiles looking up at Derek, smile at its widest, and stifling thoughts of kissing the smirk right off of that slick bastard's face.

"So, _Underworld_ tonight? I want to make fun of all the lore they get wrong. Really, like, once you know about how werewolves really are, the Lycans are the funniest damn thing in the world."

Stiles spoke without stopping through about half of the film before he noticed that Derek had fallen asleep. It actually surprised him that Derek had finally let his guard down enough to fall asleep with Stiles right next to him. He had been so guarded every time Scott and he had come to see him ever since that first time they had met in the woods. Maybe Derek actually really liked Stiles.

Stiles sighed and silently cursed himself. Derek had given no indication that he liked _anyone_ as anything more than friends. Hell, he hardly even treated Scott and Stiles like friends; he just sort of let them take over his house a couple times a week. Thinking on it now, Derek actually hadn't done anything that might indicate that he was interested in friendship with them. He hadn't once offered to meet them outside of his house. He hadn't even offered up his house! Stiles had practically commandeered it!

Derek just let Stiles force his way into his life. Stiles had placed himself there, without permission, without Derek even wanting him there, probably.

Stiles shook his head and got up from the couch. Derek didn't want to be with him. Never would. He had dealt with unrequited crushes before and he would just have to do it again. He would just leave him alone. Leave Derek alone. He clearly had no want or need of friends.

Fine, fine, it was fine. Totally fine.

He had only just reached his hand out toward the doorknob when he heard a murmured "no" from the couch. Stiles, confused, turned around and walked back to the sofa, where he was met with the sight of a sleeping Derek, shivering, crying, and repeating, "no, no, no…" under his breath. Stiles knelt next to the couch where Derek was half-sitting, half-laying down on the armrest.

"Shh…" he whispered, laying a hand on Derek's arm, wiping away a tear with his free hand. "It's okay, I'm here. It's just a nightmare. It's me. It's Stiles. I'm here. You're okay. Everything's okay."

Derek's shuddering slowly stopped as Stiles rubbed his shoulder. When it appeared that Derek had calmed down enough, Stiles moved to get up. The second his hand left Derek's shoulder, Derek's own hand reached up to grab Stiles' arm, sleepily pulling him in.

"Don't leave," mumbled Derek's half-asleep voice.

Stiles stared, shocked_. "Stiles Stilinksi_," he thought as he climbed next to Derek on the couch, "_you are going to regret this._" He wrapped his arms around the older man. Might as well get comfortable before he died of embarrassment. He gave an internal "what the hell" and kicked a leg over Derek's.

He breathed in the air. He was a little too pleased with how his own scent mingled with Derek's in the room. Derek would have traces of Stiles on him for a week. The thought brought a smile to his face as he nuzzled his head into Derek's neck.

The smell of panic had stopped emanating from Derek's sleeping body. Now, he looked… at peace. More peaceful than Stiles had ever seen him. It was this image of Derek that finally carried Stiles to sleep moments later.

Derek was way too warm. And there was a crick in his neck. And his entire left arm was asleep. He blinked at the sunlight that was permeating the room. He went to rub his eyes when he found that his arm was pinned underneath something. It was then that he noticed the patch of soft hair that was tickling his lips. He inhaled sharply.

It was Stiles.

He had fallen asleep with Stiles.

Who he was now spooning_. He was spooning Stiles Stilinski._

He shifted himself up on his elbow to get a better look at Stiles, trying not to wake him up. He was still fully clothed, thank God. Derek turned his eyes down to Stiles' face.

In sleep, Stiles was, well, beautiful. Lips parted slightly, almost smiling, eyelashes long. Derek wanted to count his freckles.

Derek blinked. No, he was not going to fall for this dorky little werewolf his who he would only end up hurting anyway. He deserved a hell of a lot better than Derek. Derek laid a small kiss into Stiles' hair before pulling back again. No, he was not going to let this happen.

"Stiles," Derek whispered, shifting to stir him from his sleep. "Stiles, wake up. You fell asleep."

Stiles took a deep breath in through his nose before opening his eyes. Then, suddenly, he was on the ground, sprawled out and fumbling to get onto his feet, stuttering out apologies.

"It's fine, Stiles, it's just… It's almost 9:00. Maybe you should get home," Derek sighed, sitting up and rubbing his eyes.

"Yeah- what? Yeah, totally, I need to go, I – shit! – yeah, I need to… go! Shit, I forgot to tell my dad, shit, I'll, I'll text you or something!" Stiles tripped over his feet as he stumbled through his speech on his way to the door, faced away from Derek the entire time, never once meeting his eyes. As Stiles practically sprinted through the front door, Derek mentally slapped himself and go up to follow him. Derek watched as Stiles tripped, caught himself, then kept going until he reached his jeep, slamming the door and peeling out.

Derek stared at the leaving car. Not entirely sure as to why, he whispered, "thank you" to the tail lights that were slowly retreating in the distance.

* * *

AN: Longest chapter yet! Stupid, stupid boys. ;)

Just a forewarning that there's no full-on lemon in this story, if that's the only reason you're here (filthy perverts, the lot of you), but [spoiler alert] there is some (ahem) Stiles self-lovin' in the next chapter so that's where the M-rating's going to come into play.

Let me know what you guys think so far!


	6. Chapter 6

Once he was out of Derek's field of vision, Stiles palmed his groin roughly and let out a groan. He replayed Derek whispering his name in his head again and again. He wondered if the rasp of Derek's voice would ever leave his head. Probably not.

Stiles looked in his rearview mirror. There he was, standing on the porch. His mouth moved, and Stiles strained his ears to hear the object of his fantasies whisper a bemused "thank you".

Stiles groaned again. It shouldn't be a turn-on to learn that Derek didn't hate him. He really hoped Derek hadn't noticed that he'd woken up hard, straining against his jeans.

He needed to get off, and soon. Usually he would take the time to make it more special, treat himself like a prince, but now was not one of those times. He fumbled with his button and zipper until his member was finally free. One hand on the steering wheel, Stiles used the other to grip himself, roughly moving his hand up his length, almost to the point where it hurt. The thought of Derek whispering his name, grunting his name, yelling his name, moaning his name, was almost enough to get him off right there. After only a few more strokes, Stiles was ready to come. His knuckles whitened on the steering wheel, claws beginning to extend. His voice shouted out a near-howled _"DEREK!"_ and he let his vision go white.

He quickly blinked it away and tried to focus on the road. His car halfway over the yellow line, Stiles quickly jerked the steering wheel back and straightened his path. He fumbled around in the glove compartment, feeling for a napkin or something to get the come off of, ugh, his favorite t-shirt.

He had nearly wolfed out when he came. That hadn't happened since he was 14. God, what was this man doing to him?

The smell of Stiles' own come filled the jeep. Stiles choked on it, rolling down the windows. He hoped to God he could get the stench out before Scott rode with him next. Scott, who would be able to identify the smell immediately because of one too many sleepover incidents that they promised never to discuss again. Scott, who he still hadn't been told about Stiles' feelings for Derek. Who probably didn't even know Stiles was into guys. He could be incredibly unobservant for someone with extremely heightened senses.

Scott, who had promised to call Stiles. And Stiles, who had entirely forgotten about it in his Big Gay Freak-Out last night.

Stiles felt at the pockets of his still-unzipped jeans for his phone. Shit. He had forgotten it back at Derek's. Which meant he would have to go back. And that was something he didn't even want to think about yet.

He pulled into his driveway. His dad's car was nowhere in sight (thank God), so he sauntered up to the laundry room first, peeling off his shirt and tossing it into the washing machine. That taken care of, Stiles went to his room, plopped himself down at his desk and opened up Facebook. He immediately messaged Scott.

_**Stiles**__: sorry about last night. lost track of time. skype?_

It took a minute or so before his laptop let out a ring that signified he was being hailed on Skype.

Scott's blurry face appeared on the screen.

"Hey, man. You fall asleep last night or something?"

Stiles rubbed his head. "Nah, just, you know. We can talk about it later. How'd your date with New Girl go?"

Scott got a goofy far-away look in his eyes. So, presumably, it had gone well.

"She's awesome, Stiles. Allison is, like, the most beautiful person I've ever met. And she thinks I have a cute smile, and we're going to go out again next Friday! You can do movie night without me, right?"

"Actually," Stiles began hesitantly, "I don't know if I'm going to go to movie night anymore. Something sort of… happened. Last night."

"Did he try to hurt you?" Scott burst out, outraged.

"No- what? No! Nonono, He- I… Last night I was thinking about how he hasn't even shown a sign that he even wants to be friends with us, so when he fell asleep I was just going to leave, but then he started having, like, this nightmare, so I stayed and slept next to him, but I guess when we were sleeping we ended up spooning and he woke me up and I left but I forgot my phone and I really don't know what to do."

Stiles had delivered the entire speech in only one breath, leaving him gasping at the end. Scott stared at him quietly for a few moments.

"Do you like Derek?" He asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Of course I do! I mean, he's a total asshole, but he's my friend. Or he was…"

"No, no. I mean, like, do you… want to be with Derek?"

Stiles paused. Apparently Scott was more observant than he looked.

"Yes-no! I mean, I don't know! He clearly has no interest in me, so what's the point of even trying?" Stiles buried his face in his hands.

"Well," Scott offered, "how do you know he's not interested?"

Stiles stared open-mouthed. Okay, so maybe Scott wasn't that observant after all.

"Scott. When has that guy ever shown any indication that he cares for us in the slightest? We've been hanging around him for almost two months and we've never once hung out outside of his house."

"Well, sometimes, when we're outside sparring and he comes out to watch us, he'll just look at you like…"

"Like what, Scott? Like a monster? Because that's what I am! That's what you are. We're monsters, Scott, and that's never going to change!"

"Like you're the only one he cares about." Scott continued, concern coloring his face, "Is that what this is about? You don't think he'd be into you because you're a werewolf?"

"Why would anyone want to be with someone like us? Why would anyone have any reason to be?"

There was a pregnant pause. Scott stared at Stiles' visage, as Stiles slumped over, staring at his keyboard, breathing heavily.

"You know that that's not true, Stiles."

Stiles ran his hands through his hair for the umpteenth time. "Okay, okay, whatever. Even if by some miracle of the heavens he did like me, I don't know if I would even want him to! It's too dangerous. Not just because of me. There's hunters, creatures. The see him with me, they could hurt him. And if they hurt him, Scott, I don't- I don't know what I would do."

"Stiles, it sounds like you really care about him. And I just think that you should go talk to him about it, okay? What's the worst that could happen?"

"Oh my God, you are such a girl. Okay, I'll talk to him about it. I have to go there to get my phone anyway. I'll do it tonight.

Scott broke into a goofy smile. "Dude, I'm so happy for you!"

"Yeah, yeah," said Stiles, "You're lucky you're cute or I would've gotten rid of you a long time ago."

* * *

AN: Again, a pretty long chapter. Next one's gonna be pretty short, and so will the last one. Speaking of, only two more chapters to go!

And I regret to inform you that the smuttiest part of the fic is over. But you can't say there wasn't something! ;)

Let me know what you think so far!


	7. Chapter 7

He still had no idea how he managed to convince himself to leave the house at all. He had been lying on his bed, considering googling "how to tell your asshole maybe-friend that you want to do dirty things to him and maybe hold his hand and get him to smile for once in his life" (which, for the record, had not yielded any relevant results), when he sat bolt upright, raising his hands to the ceiling.

"FINE! I'll do it!" he shouted to a poster on his wall, which had been eyeing him judgmentally.

"What?" came a yell from his father downstairs.

Stiles grabbed his keys, and took the stairs two at a time until he reached his father in the kitchen.

"I'mgoingtogovisitDerekI'llbebacksoonloveyoubye!" Stiles shouted out in a breath, planting a kiss on his father's cheek and sprinting out of the front door to his jeep.

The entire ride to Derek's was spent as a continuation of Stiles' last few hours' deliberation of what to say. He had thought that waiting a few hours would make finding the right words easier, but he had been trying to think of what he might say to Derek all day, and all he had come up with was "I forgot my phone."

He reached Derek's house and he still hadn't gotten any closer. He got out of his car, running a hand over his head and mumbling "shitshitshit…" There was no going back now.

He saw Derek through the window, still sitting on the couch. Jesus, had he been there all day?

Stiles stopped at the door and knocked lightly.

"Derek? It's me, uh. It's Stiles, I-"

Derek opened the door, eyes connecting with Stiles'.

"I, uh. I forgot my phone."

Derek's hand extended toward Stiles. He looked down. Stiles' phone.

"Oh. Thanks." Stiles grabbed the phone, flinching when his fingertips touched Derek's. _Dammit, Stiles, pull yourself together. _"Derek, I need to tell you-"

Stiles paused, sniffing at the air. He knew that scent.

"GET DOWN!" Stiles yelled, pushing Derek to the floor as a shot rang out. The scent of blood filled the air. Stiles turned, allowing his inner wolf to bubble to the surface. He tongued at the sharp incisors that filled in the familiar space in his mouth, and cracked his neck, feeling his shape change, bones reforming, fur sprouting all over his body. He let out a resounding roar and hurled toward where he knew the hunters were, he could smell them, smell their fear…

He pounced at the first sight of one, teeth attaching themselves to its ankles as it let out a piteous scream. He twisted until he heard a bone cracking, then he stopped himself.

"_You're not a killer, you're not a killer, this isn't you…"_ Stiles chanted in his head, transforming back to his beta wolf form.

He growled deeply and watched the three men quiver, their guns lying at their sides. They were new. This must have been a training exercise.

"If you leave now, I will not kill you. If you come back, I will have no choice." The men scampered off, the injured man being half-dragged by the two unharmed.

Stiles looked down at his naked body. He was certain he hadn't been shot, but the scent of blood had been so strong-

Derek. They got Derek.

Stiles sprinted faster than he had known he could, occasionally dropping to all fours, breathing heavily. Each exhale heralded a "_Derek…_" from Stiles' lips.

Derek was laying in his doorway, spluttering up blood. There was a pool of red beneath him, blossomed out on his grey t-shirt. He had been shot. In the stomach. By a bullet that had been intended for Stiles.

Tears stinging at his eyes, Stiles dropped to his knees and pressed his hands against the bloody wound, nakedness forgotten.

"Derek, Derek, listen. I need you to tell me it's okay, I need you to tell me it's okay for me to give you the bite. It's the- the only way I can save you, Derek. Please tell me it's okay. I need you, Derek, please."

Stiles stared at Derek, waiting for a confirmation, but he was too far gone. His breath was getting shallower, his heartbeat weaker.

Leaning into him, pressing a kiss against his cheek, Stiles whispered, "I'm sorry, Derek, I'm so sorry."

Stiles lowered his mouth to Derek's neck and bit down.

* * *

_AN: ... ;)_

_Next chapter is the last._


	8. Chapter 8

Derek inhaled suddenly, eyes opening wide. _No, too much, too much. _He shut his eyes tight and tried to hold his breath. It was too, too bright and every scent made it feel like his temples were caving in. Everything was all too much.

Unable to hold his breath any longer, Derek took a small steady breath in through his nose. One smell overtook the others this time, familiar and comforting. Derek leaned into it, seeking relief.

"I'm sorry," a voice sounded. It had been a whisper, but it resonated like a canon's boom through Derek's skull. He winced.

"I'm so sorry… I know it can hurt a lot. Your senses are stronger than you're used to right now. That should wear off in a few minutes."

Stiles.

_Stiles was here._

Derek sat up slowly, opening his eyes hesitantly to find Stiles sitting next to him.

They were sitting on Stiles' bed, moonlight coming in lightly through the window, a small lamp in the corner the only other source of light. How long had he been out?

"You- you were dying. And I'm so sorry, but I had to bite you. I couldn't lose you. You 're a jerk and kind of an asshole and I almost never know what you're feeling, but I care about you so much, Derek, and the thought of losing you… I'm so s-" Stiles was cut off as Derek's mouth pressed against his own. Stiles' eyes opened comically wide, then flitted shut as he leaned into the kiss, cherishing the feel of Derek's lips against his.

Derek breathed in deeply, wanting to memorize the scent of Stiles and himself together. There was an overwhelming feeling of _home_ that came with the smell. He broke the kiss, mourning the loss of Stiles' lips, but pressing his face into the younger man's neck, laying a kiss there and smelling him more. He was entirely overwhelmed by how he felt in that moment. Everything he had lost two years ago was still gone, but this, what he had here with Stiles, was entirely different and it made him feel whole for the first time in so long. Derek gripped Stiles tighter, wrapping arms and legs around him, still inhaling steadily and deeply. Something deep within him let out a feeling of satisfaction, so intense he could practically hear the voice saying _"yes…"_. He felt a genuine smile make its way across his face, instead of his usual scowl or smirk. The muscle movement was unfamiliar, but he couldn't stop it.

"The last thing I remember is handing you your phone, and then…" Derek murmured into Stiles' neck, trailing off to allow Stiles to fill in all the blanks.

"Hunters. They shot you in the stomach. I chased them off, but by the time I got back, you were almost dead. I asked you if you were okay with the bite, because it was the only way to save you, but you weren't answering. And I couldn't lose you, Derek. I couldn't. I- I care about you, Derek. A lot. And I'm so sorry for doing this to you, for making you into this, and if you never want to see me again, I totally understand." Stiles turned to Derek, who had finally broken away from his neck.

Derek reached his hands up to cup Stiles' face. His eyes must have been so dulled before, because Stiles, in this light, was even more Stiles. His eyes were even bigger, more doe-like, and a deep golden-brown. His lips were reddened from the kiss, parted slightly. He bet, with enough time, he could count every freckle on his face. He resolved to do so one day.

The _thump, thump_ that he hadn't been aware he was listening to began to speed up. Before he even realized it, he had attached himself to that sound, soft, and muffled and entirely his.

"You saved my life." Derek leaned in and placed a gentle kiss against Stiles' lips, continuing to speak quietly against them. "And I have no plans of leaving you anytime soon."

Derek pulled back slightly and took in the shell-shocked look on his face. Derek took a deep breath again. His nose picked up something, a new smell that the voice from inside of his head from earlier labeled as desire before letting out a growl. He smiled and rolled over on top of Stiles, pinning him down.

The feel of Stiles against him, smiling, laughing, touching felt so entirely natural to him, as if they had been doing this for a thousand years.

An engine sounded from outside. Derek broke away from a still puckering Stiles, and asked, "Who's here?"

"That," Stiles began slowly, horror dawning on his face, "would be my father getting home from work. Get down!" he stage whispered, shoving a smiling Derek under his bed.

Derek crouched under Stiles' bed, as the younger man ran downstairs. Derek could easily hear Stiles' attempt at casually introducing Derek to the Sheriff as a new member of the pack. The pack. The family. Derek had found a family, and someone who he would rather be with than anyone in the world.

* * *

AN: And there we have it! Please forgive the terribly cheesy ending, but I'd rather punch myself in the face than let Stiles or Derek be sad for longer than, like, 5 minutes.

Let me know what you think! And thanks for reading!


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